


Once and For All

by akitsuko



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Loud Sex, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, References to Drugs, Restraints, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitsuko/pseuds/akitsuko
Summary: All you need to do is say the word, and I will give it all up for you. There is, however, a deadline. I'm sure you've heard by now of my engagement.Oswald is about to enter into a marriage of convenience. He gives Ed one final chance to change the course of their future.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 33
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this image of Ed looking absolutely _fine_ and crashing Oswald's wedding to whisk him away, so naturally I turned it into smut. Enjoy!

Ed received Oswald's letter. He's thought about little else for the past several weeks, and this is his last chance to do something about it. 

He's alone, the quiet almost deafening in his small apartment, as he sets out the suit he's had made for this occasion. Three pieces, midnight black, the jacket and trousers adorned with sparkling green pinstripes, the waistcoat an iridescent emerald. Paired with a white silk dress shirt, a shimmering green tie and black shoes shined to perfection. His cufflinks and his tie pin are shaped like question marks. 

He's never been one to agonise over his appearance, but this time he makes an exception. He spends far longer than usual styling his hair. He rubs balm onto his lips and spritzes his best cologne. 

_ My dearest Edward, this isn't real. My heart will only ever belong to you.  _

His history with Oswald is complicated, at best. They've shared so many dynamics together. They've been strangers, friends, partners, enemies. They never quite crossed the line into lovers, but they toed that boundary more often than Ed can recall, and his memory is exemplary. 

When the letter arrived, Oswald's unmistakable handwriting scrawled onto the envelope, they hadn't even seen each other for many months, much less spoken. Ed had seen the papers, of course. It had been hard to avoid news of Oswald's developing association with Miss Falcone. They were seen together frequently, their relationship the subject of much speculation amongst the gossip columns. It surprised no one when their engagement was publicly announced. 

No one but Ed who, for all their animosity and distance, had still thought that he  _ knew _ Oswald. 

He hadn't analysed the bitter taste left in his mouth, but he had spiralled nevertheless, embarking on a crime spree with each heist more daring than the last. He'd made himself a public spectacle, openly baiting the GCPD, and feeling simultaneously exhilarated by his intellectual superiority and disappointed that his exploits weren't more challenging to get away with. 

_ I know you, Edward Nygma. I know what you're doing. Your motives aren't as subtle as you think they are.  _

To be honest, whether or not he got caught was neither here nor there. What he'd wanted, he eventually admitted to himself, was acknowledgement. Headlines. Attention. He'd torn photographs of Oswald and Sofia out of newspapers, fuelled by ugly green emotion as he'd tried to will his old hallucination into being once more. 

He'd wanted to ask, have you forgotten about me, Oswald? Have you really moved on? 

He'd murmured, with bile rising in his throat, you said that you loved me, Oswald. Don't forget about me. Please. 

The arrival of Oswald's letter, just as Ed had been considering turning back to drugs to break his spiral, felt too much like fate to ignore. 

_ This is an opportunity for you to change our future. If you want to.  _

Suddenly, he had been filled with a renewed sense of purpose. His immediate urge was to drive himself straight to the Van Dahl estate, where he believed Oswald was still living, but he rapidly rethought that plan. It was too impulsive, with too many unknown variables. If he was going to do this, then he was going to do it properly. 

He smoothes the creases from his clothes as he dresses, each garment feeling like a layer of armour. He's about to go to battle, and he needs to look the part. Nothing but the highest standard will do. And when he stands in front of his full-length mirror, his posture rigid and his expression sterner than he would like, he certainly cuts a striking figure. Even if he looks for all the world like he's about to be led to the electric chair. 

He has nothing to worry about, he reminds himself, attempting to force his jaw to relax. He only has to be courageous, just as Oswald would undoubtedly be if their roles were reversed. 

_ All you need to do is say the word, and I will give it all up for you. There is, however, a deadline. I'm sure you've heard by now of my engagement.  _

He straightens his lapels one last time before picking up his keys and heading out to his car. It's time. 

_ The ceremony is May 18th, at 15:00. Whether or not you contact me before that time, I will have my final answer.  _

Finding out the location of the wedding had not been hard. It's a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Gotham. No expense spared for this particular consolidation of power. Because that's what it is, Ed was relieved to learn from the letter, before kicking himself for not realising as much sooner. Oswald doesn't love Sofia. In all likelihood, he doesn't even like her all that much. He's simply formalising his connection to one of the most powerful families in the city. It may be that he's playing a very long game, with more sinister designs on eventually taking more control for himself, but he didn't go into any details. 

When he pulls up outside the mansion at ten minutes past three, there's no available space to park, so he stops right outside the main door. He gets out and walks with purpose, and two hired brutes attempt to stop him, demanding to see his invitation. He doesn't have one, obviously, but isn't surprised to find that the two barely have a brain cell between them, and are easily persuaded to let him in. Morons. At least he doesn't have to resort to any violence just yet. 

There's not a soul to be seen inside the reception area. The ceremony must be underway by now, and Ed is quickly able to deduce its location by the extravagant decor surrounding a set of double doors to his left. 

His heart thumps in his chest as he approaches. He swallows his nerves, pausing as he reaches out to grab both handles. Just for a moment, he's astounded by the situation he's in and what he's about to do, and he exhales a quick, incredulous laugh. He's sure, though. He's sure in a way that he has never been with anyone other than Oswald. Yes, he's loved before, and he's obsessed before, but no one in the world has ever been able to get under his skin like Oswald can. Oswald has burrowed there and fleshed himself a permanent residence. 

And yes, he could have done this in a hundred other ways, but he has a flair for the dramatic. 

So he takes a final breath, and swings the doors open. 

"Oswald!" 

His voice projects as he takes long, confident strides down the aisle. All eyes turn to him, and there are so many, although that was to be expected for the wedding of two such prominent figures in society. This room is enormous, a ballroom, a high ceiling and an atmosphere of grandiosity. 

Ed takes in no details about it. His gaze is fixed firmly on the groom, who stares back at him with an expression so stunned that it would be comical under any other circumstances. He feels the weight of his audience's attention as he stops halfway towards the altar, and he speaks loudly and clearly. 

"She can't have you."

Muttered exclamations erupt among the guests. So many emotions pass across Oswald's face that Ed can't keep up, and his pause is far too long to be comfortable. 

Ed is on the verge of rethinking his life choices when Oswald finally says, "I thought you weren't going to come."

Ed's shoulders sag as he grins. "You know me."

There's a moment, an understanding, and it's only the two of them in this huge room, dressed to the nines and much too far apart. Then Oswald throws his head back and laughs with his whole being. 

"I knew it!" he yells, and then after his laughter subsides he says, "You know, you're supposed to wait until the officiant  _ invites  _ you to voice your objections."

Sofia is saying something, and people he doesn't know are talking all around him, but Ed's eyes and ears are only for Oswald. 

"Are you coming?" he hears himself say, and Oswald's smile is blinding. 

"I can't believe you still have to ask."

It turns out that Ed has started a war. The bloodshed begins almost instantly, with Sofia's people pulling guns and then Oswald's people pulling guns, and the two of them don't quite manage to get out of it unscathed. By the time they're safely in Ed's car and pulling away from the mansion, Oswald's shoulder is bleeding from a grazed bullet and one of the lenses in Ed's glasses is cracked. 

Still, Ed can't bring himself to care about ruined alliances, not when he finally has Oswald by his side. They drive in silence for a few minutes, and only when the mansion is out of sight completely does Oswald speak. 

"You came." His voice is no longer brash. He's quieter, his tone imbued with wonderment. It occurs to Ed that perhaps, in leaving his stunt to the very last minute, he had inadvertently convinced Oswald that he was going to leave him to his sham marriage. 

"Of course I did."

"I didn't think that my wedding day would actually arrive," Oswald says. "When it did, I started wondering if I'd been wrong about you."

Ed sighs. "You know you're not wrong. Your emotional literacy is much better than mine."

Oswald is quiet, but everything he doesn't say hangs in the air between them. That there was once a time when Ed would not have been nearly so complimentary about his emotional state. 

"So, how many times does this make?" Oswald asks. "That you've saved me?" 

"I lose count," Ed smiles. "Let's just start now with a clean slate for both of us."

"I'd like that."

Ed drives them a long way out of town; dusk is starting to close in as he finally pulls up outside a glamorous hotel on the mainland. 

Oswald turns to him when he switches off the engine, making no move to exit the car yet. "In the past," he begins, "we've frequently failed to understand each other, and it's never ended well for us. I learn from my mistakes, Ed, and this isn't one that I would care to repeat. So please, be honest and tell me what you want."

Chewing his tongue, Ed tries to formulate an adequate response. The truth is, there isn't one. He's done nothing but think about this and plan for this since the moment he read Oswald's letter, and his only definite conclusion is that he needs Oswald. He's spent more time denying it than he would care to admit, but the marriage forced him to confront his own desires, and honestly, he's tired of pretending that Oswald is dispensable. 

He doesn't make a habit of crashing weddings, after all. 

"I came for you," he says, "because I'm not right when I'm without you. If it's honesty you want, well… I want  _ you _ , in any way that you would be willing to have me. When you aren't in my life, I'm a mess. You make me better."

"You're not just playing games? Or trying to sabotage me?" 

"Don't you think we're past all that, Oswald?" Ed slumps back in his seat. "I've done a great deal of thinking since you wrote to me. I've reassessed my priorities. We were so much stronger back when we were together, and I want us to be like that again."

Oswald swallows loudly. "You want us to go back to… being friends?" 

Ed laughs. He can't help it. "Oswald, you don't seriously believe that I interrupted your wedding because I wanted to be friends, do you?" 

At this, Oswald looks crestfallen, and Ed realises that he's giving entirely the wrong impression. 

"Being 'friends' is no longer enough for me," he clarifies. "I want us to  _ be  _ together."

Oswald scans his face, probably searching for untruths, before abruptly turning and getting out of the car. Ed gets out too, and jogs to catch up to where Oswald is limping towards the hotel. 

"I assume you already have a room booked here?" 

"Of course. One of the premium suites."

They reach the front desk, and Ed gives his details to the receptionist to check in. Oswald eyes him with a suspicious curiosity. 

"What were you going to do if you were too late, and I was already married? Or if I sent you away?" 

Ed shrugs. "I would probably have come here anyway and drowned my sorrows in the minibar."

They take the elevator to the fifth floor and find their room without difficulty. As soon as they're both inside, Oswald has his fists in Ed's shirt and is shoving him bodily against the door. It's the only warning Ed gets before he feels Oswald's lips pressing urgently against his own. He moans softly, an automatic response, and wraps his arms around Oswald's waist to pull him as close as possible. 

Logical thought abandons him as he eagerly kisses back, the heat of Oswald's body sparking something primal in him. It's everything he's never allowed himself to want. 

He whines when Oswald bites his lower lip. 

"You're sure about this, Ed?" Oswald asks against his mouth, his voice an octave lower than normal. "Because I'm not going to ask again."

"You said you loved me," is Ed's breathless reply. "So show me." 

Oswald's growl is feral. 

They stumble towards the bed together, Ed falling back when his calves hit the edge and pulling Oswald with him, both unwilling to disconnect even for a moment. Oswald kisses just as he does everything else - with fervour and passion, and Ed can only hope that his ardent attempt to give back in equal measure is successful. 

He tightens his grip around Oswald's waist as Oswald's hands begin to do battle with the layers of his fine suit. He feels buttons being wrestled open and his shirt being tugged out from his trousers, and then warm palms are on his skin. He can't help but arch into the touch, unwilling to loosen his grip enough to allow for much exploration. 

Oswald becomes frustrated by the restriction, pushing himself up onto his knees and tearing himself away from Ed's mouth to trail hungry kisses along his jaw. Ed clutches at him, drawing haggard breaths, as he uses his new position to divest Ed of his outer layers. Though Ed feels a bit useless, he tries to cooperate, wriggling out of his jacket and waistcoat as Oswald gets the final buttons undone. Then Oswald's hands are under his shirt again, nails dragging along his skin, fingers pinching at his sensitive nipples and making him gasp. 

He attempts to refocus his gaze through his broken glasses, and the splash of blood he can see on Oswald's shoulder is like a bucket of cold water. 

"Oswald, wait," he urges, pushing to put a bit of distance between them. Oswald lifts his head to look at him in confusion, and Ed is momentarily rendered speechless by the sheer lust written all over his face. Just for him. It's a marvellous feeling. 

"Y-you're injured," he finally stammers, indicating towards Oswald's shoulder with his chin. Oswald attempts to follow his gaze, apparently surprised to find that he is indeed wounded. 

"This?" Oswald asks. "If you think this  _ scratch  _ is any sort of obstacle to the things I want to do to you, then you are sorely mistaken."

Ed decides that such a declaration is more than good enough to allow proceedings to continue. He yanks Oswald's mouth back to his own for a deep kiss while he bucks his hips in an attempt to achieve some friction. Oswald's answering groan reverberates throughout his whole body, and he very deliberately thrusts against Ed once, before sitting himself upright, straddling Ed's hips, and scrambling to get some of his own clothes off. 

He's down to his shirt and getting those buttons undone before Ed has enough coherence of mind to reach up and bat his hands away, unfastening the rest with deft but shaky hands. His mouth fills with saliva as he exposes Oswald's torso. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it is the first time he's been allowed to fully appreciate it. His gaze flits from scar to scar, cataloguing every dip and curve of his body, the protrusions of bones and light smattering of hair. 

He traces his hands down one of Oswald's arm to remove his cufflink, then takes his other arm to do the same thing. Then the shirt is pushed away and Oswald's upper half is bare, his chest working with quickened breaths. Ed lets himself reach out to touch. It's terrifying and exhilarating, and Oswald's eyes close as Ed traces the shadows of his body. 

But Oswald's patience is limited, and very soon he's attacking Ed's skin again, ignoring his shirt buttons in favour of simply rucking the fabric up under Ed's armpits. His head dips to take a nipple in his mouth, and Ed is so surprised by the warm sensation that he jerks his head and knocks his glasses askew. He takes them off with one hand while the other presses against the back of Oswald's head, fingers tangling in the product-filled mess of his hair. 

Oswald's tongue flicks out and teases him, alternating with light nips with those sharp teeth, and Ed's head is soon swimming, taken apart by the pleasurable tingling that sends bolts of arousal straight to his groin. He's hard, almost ridiculously so, and he wishes he could feel Oswald in the same way. When he drops his hands to grab at Oswald's ass and pull him down, forcibly grinding the two of them together, it feels even better than he'd imagined. The concept of having another man's erection rubbing against him is foreign but deliriously wonderful. If Oswald's shuddering moan is anything to go by, he agrees. 

To his dismay, Oswald's mouth disengages from his nipple, though their hips continue their steady rhythm. He's about to make a complaint when Oswald chokes out, "Ed, I've… I've dreamed of… Ugh, just get up here properly."

They get themselves fully onto the plush hotel bed, and Oswald sits himself a little further back on Ed's thighs, focusing his attention on removing Ed's belt and trousers. Ed takes a moment, pushed up onto his elbows, just to watch him. He's a sight to behold, truly. His face is flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, and the pink colour spreads down his neck and across his chest. The movements of the muscles under his skin are absolutely mesmerising. He looks strong, in every way, and having his undivided attention is something Ed is afraid he's already becoming addicted to. His brand of danger is unmatched by anything else Ed has ever experienced. 

Soon, and with some wriggling on Ed's part, Oswald has him completely undressed. It's odd; Ed hasn't spent much time naked in front of other people and it generally makes him feel uncomfortable, but this time he's so overwhelmed by his need for Oswald that he forgets to be bothered about his physical flaws. Oswald is looking at him like he's something desirable, ready to be devoured. The notion is incredible and he's not sure how he'll ever be able to live without it again. 

"Oswald…"

It's all he can say before Oswald wraps a firm hand around the base of his cock and leans down to take the tip into his mouth, and Ed forgets how words work. He falls onto his back with a high-pitched keen, pelvis undulating upward of its own accord; his body is overcome with a single-minded need to be engulfed by more of that tight, wet warmth, and he fists his hands into the sheets with a white-knuckled grip. 

Oswald has done this before. He must have done. It's the only possible explanation for his confidence as he gradually slides his lips down Ed's length, achingly slow, sucking and swallowing all the way. But Ed doesn't have any space in his head for jealousy. Everything is  _ Oswald Oswald Oswald.  _ It's the rhythm Oswald builds to, moving his head up and down without releasing the soft grip of his lips. It's the flutter of his tongue along the veins and ridges, against all those sensitive nerve endings in such a way that Ed gets no reprieve. It's the light scrape of his teeth, which goes against everything Ed ever thought he knew about oral sex but makes stars explode behind his eyelids. 

The next hint of a bite, soothed immediately by the warm flat of Oswald's tongue, has Ed unable to suppress a sob. 

"Oswald," he forces out through a mouth that barely remembers how to respond to his brain. "I'm close, Os… Oh god,  _ oh god…" _

Oswald, damn him, hums with satisfaction and redoubles his efforts, refusing to allow Ed's pleasure to subside even for a moment. His hands are curled around Ed's hips, and he sucks Ed's cock ever deeper into his throat. 

Ed loses control within moments. The bubbling heat inside him reaches a boiling point, and he groans long and low as he comes into Oswald's willing mouth, his body wracked with pulses of his climax. Every muscle is tense as he rides it out, welcoming the temporary oblivion, and idly acknowledging that it's easily the best orgasm he's ever had. 

He may not have lasted very long, but it hardly seems to matter. 

When he comes back to himself, Oswald's face is pressed into his thigh as he ruts his own hips desperately against the mattress. Well, that won't do. Mindful of his bad leg and injured shoulder, Ed uses his slowly returning strength to manhandle him onto his back, pressing their bodies together as he kisses him, trying to convey the myriad emotions coursing through him. The taste of himself on Oswald's tongue isn't exactly pleasant, but it's a concession he's willing to make. 

He licks his lips when he raises his head back up, and Oswald stares back at him, eyes clouded with lust. 

"Tell me what you want," he whispers while he works on divesting Oswald of his trousers and underwear. 

Oswald looks him straight in the eyes as he replies, "I want to fuck you."

Ed's brain short-circuits and his hands falter. "Oh goodness."

"I don't suppose…" Oswald swallows loudly, "... that when you were putting this stunt together, you thought to pack… supplies?" 

It takes a second for Ed to realise what Oswald means, but he's mortified when he realises that he's overlooked this particular necessity in his planning. He doesn't need to say a word, because Oswald whines when the expression on his face changes. 

"I don't believe it! You, the man who thinks of everything, didn't consider that we might end up here?" 

"I'm sorry," Ed says, reading Oswald's frustration. "I guess that's something we'll have to look forward to."

This - the implication of  _ next time _ \- seems to perk Oswald back up again. Ed risks a grin. 

"Let me make it up to you," he murmurs, the words ghosting over Oswald's lips. He finishes undressing Oswald without further ceremony, and belatedly realises that he's still only wearing his shirt, which he also shrugs off for good measure. 

"Honestly, Ed," Oswald says, and he sounds broken, "you could do anything-  _ oh, hell…" _

He can't finish his sentence because Ed has wrapped his fingers around the base of his erection and is stroking him slowly, testing the new experience and trying to quickly figure out the kinds of movements that Oswald enjoys the most. He's never touched another man, but it's not so different from touching himself, and luckily it doesn't seem to take much before Oswald is thrusting into his grip and babbling incoherent sounds. Ed's ego swells as he watches every reaction; the knowledge that he can make Oswald pliable and needy like this is incredibly gratifying. 

Curious, he leans down and seals his lips around the head of Oswald's cock, while keeping a steady rhythm with his hand around the rest of him. He keeps his gaze up, fixed on how Oswald responds. He can't see much, because Oswald has thrown his head back to expose his throat and his entire body is taut, but at least he's not hearing any complaints. 

Quite the opposite, it seems. Oswald's fingers soon begin clenching in the sheets, his exhales loud and ragged, endearments spilling uncontrollably from his mouth. 

"Oh, Ed," he whimpers. "So good, amazing,  _ ah…  _ Love you… I'm not gonna last, Ed,  _ Ed _ …!" 

Ed considers pulling his mouth away and finishing Oswald with his hand, but is surprised to realise that he doesn't want to. While he's admittedly fantasised about Oswald finding pleasure inside his mouth, he's always assumed that the reality of such an act would be far less appealing when the time came. He's never been so delighted to be wrong. He tightens his lips and strokes faster, adding his tongue into the mix, suddenly anxious to discover what Oswald tastes like. 

He doesn't have to wait long. Oswald climaxes with his entire body, all trembling limbs and jerking movements, as Ed feels the sticky globs of come hit the back of his mouth. He savours the final twitches of Oswald's cock on his tongue, and swallows his release dutifully, finding that he neither likes nor dislikes the experience particularly.

Finally, Oswald's body goes limp and he sags into the bed as he tries to get his breath back. Ed releases him and quickly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up to lie on his back at Oswald's side. Their bodies touch in a few places, and neither of them pull away. 

Their silence, while it lasts, is amiable and pleasant. 

It is Oswald who eventually clears his throat and speaks. "I'm glad you came for me, Ed."

Ed smiles. "So am I."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS SMUT  
> The people wanted 'next time', and I am nothing if not a slave to the whims of my readers.

"Oh dear, oh dear,  _ oh dear…"  _

Ed is sweating, can hardly  _ breathe, _ never mind control the words coming out of his mouth, as Oswald slips the tip of a finger inside him. He feels himself clench around it, trying to will himself to relax as it slides in smoothly, all the way to the knuckle. 

It's peculiar and uncomfortable, overwhelming on so many levels, and Oswald isn't even moving yet. 

"How is it?" Oswald's voice comes from behind him. Ed can't see from where he's propped up on his elbows and knees, but Oswald sounds just as worked up as he is. 

"It's… oh god," Ed groans as the finger shifts inside him. He clears his throat. "It's strange. Gotta get used to it."

Oswald's finger moves again, and it makes him moan softly. 

"We can stop," Oswald reminds him, "and do something else?"

But Ed is quick to dismiss that idea. "No,  _ thank you _ . Keep going."

He hears Oswald scoff. "Stubborn."

Ed doesn't care. He knows that the discomfort is a temporary necessity. Once he's been stretched properly, he's quite convinced that the pleasure of having Oswald buried inside him will outweigh anything else. He just has to get there first. 

He huffs out an exhale, and wiggles his hips in encouragement; Oswald responds by pulling his finger almost all the way out, then pushing it back in, curling it upwards as he goes. Ed's breath catches in his throat, and the squelch of lube seems obscenely loud. 

After Ed's oversight yesterday in failing to procure the necessary supplies for penetrative sex, it was the first thing he did this morning after waking and disentangling himself from Oswald's arms. The nearest store was, fortunately, not far. He'd been back at the hotel room armed with plenty of lube and condoms before Oswald had even opened his eyes. Ed had been completely endeared by the sight of him, soft and dishevelled and drooling on his pillow. 

There's nothing so soft about him now, as he slowly and steadily fucks Ed with his finger. He's alert, every ounce of his focus trained on Ed, rapt attention paid to every sound or movement he makes. The burn is starting to ease, and Ed can feel his body growing accustomed to the intrusion. 

Experimentally, he rocks back onto the finger as it pushes in again, forcing it slightly deeper than before. He gasps, hands tightening in the sheets beneath him. 

"Oh, Ed," Oswald breathes, his other hand stroking across the small of Ed's back. "You are incredible."

He removes his finger completely, and Ed feels oddly bereft, but then there are two pressing back into him, renewing that stinging stretch and making him whimper. Oswald is patient, admirably so, as he slows his pace to allow Ed to adjust. In and out. He scissors them a little, dragging against Ed's insides, and twists at his wrist to change the angle. Ed keens, a shudder jolting through his whole body. 

"All the times I've thought about this," Oswald sighs as he takes a handful of Ed's ass and squeezes, starting to move with a little more urgency again. "No fantasy could ever measure up to you. You feel so good.  _ So good,  _ Ed."

On the next thrust, he crooks his fingers and they brush against a spot inside Ed that has him almost launching himself off the bed in surprise, a hoarse wail torn from his throat. 

"Did I hurt you?" Oswald sounds panicked, and Ed shakes his head rapidly. 

"No! Again, do it again,  _ please- ah!"  _

Oswald repeats the action with unerring accuracy, seemingly delighted to be doing something Ed actually enjoys. His fingers jab out a staccato on Ed's prostate, the nails of his other hand digging into Ed's skin.

Ed is on another plane. His eyes roll back so far that he can barely see at all, his mouth hanging open with a long, haggard cry. His cock is achingly hard, fluid leaking from the tip as it twitches with every thrust. There is no room in his brain for anything other than the overload of sensation, relentlessly driven to a height he's never experienced before, at the mercy of all the stimulation that Oswald sees fit to dish out. His thighs shake uncontrollably. The burn from before is practically non-existent now, his body greedily trying to suck Oswald's fingers deeper and faster. 

He's on the verge of stammering out a plea for reprieve when Oswald pulls out of him again. His muscles clench pathetically around nothing, and he whines even as he gulps lungfuls of air to recover. He can't think, his mind is in disarray. 

"Completely beautiful," Oswald says, and Ed can't reply because three fingers are wriggling inside him, stealing his breath away and making him feel impossibly full. It doesn't even hurt for long this time, because now Oswald has something to aim for, and he knows he's found it when Ed thrashes and chokes out a sob. 

The pleasure builds again as Oswald works back up to his previous rhythm. Ed feels as though every nerve ending is on fire, each tap of Oswald's fingertips against his prostate electrifying him. In some distant part of his brain, he suspects that he's going to come completely untouched if this keeps up for too much longer. His hips rock forwards into the air, his cock seeking a friction that isn't there, his body subconsciously and shamelessly trying to meet Oswald thrust for thrust. It's too much and not enough, and he makes no effort to quieten the increasingly desperate sounds he can hear himself making. 

"Oswald…  _ please,"  _ he begs, "I need you. Now, Oswald, now-  _ oh,  _ please…" 

With a high-pitched grunt of his own, Oswald pulls his fingers free and allows Ed a few moments to recover while he fumbles with a condom and the lube. Ed is grateful for the chance to get his breath back. Contrary to the initial sting, Oswald's fingers had ended up feeling better than he could ever have imagined, and while that's certainly not a complaint, he would rather be able to concentrate when Oswald fucks him for the first time than already be delirious with pleasure. With a trembling hand, he wipes the sweat from his face before settling back down on his elbows. 

He wishes he could see Oswald. But they had agreed that this position would be the least uncomfortable for both of them this time, and he looks forward to the ample opportunities he intends to grasp in the future to look into Oswald's eyes while they fuck. 

He already dreams of riding Oswald. Perhaps while Oswald is tied up and unable to do anything more than take it. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. 

Then he's brought back to reality as the head of Oswald's cock slides wetly up from his balls, snagging on his rim, teasing at the quivering muscle without pushing past. Both of Oswald's hands land on his hips, gripping hard and betraying his own lust. 

"Ready?" Oswald asks, his voice low and needy. All Ed can do is nod as emphatically as possible, biting his lip in anticipation. 

The initial breach hurts. There's no getting around that. Oswald enters him in small increments, allowing him time to adjust to each addition, but his cock feels very different to his fingers. Much bigger and far less forgiving. Ed tries again to relax, but it isn't easy, and his arousal takes a backseat while he wholly focuses on letting Oswald in. 

He's out of breath by the time he finally feels Oswald's balls brushing against his ass. Despite his best efforts, every muscle in his body is tense. 

Oswald's hands stroke up and down his back. "You're so tight… You feel amazing, Ed. Want to make you feel good. Tell me… Tell me when I can…  _ ah,  _ I'll wait for you."

Oswald is shaking with the effort of holding back, and Ed, half insane with fullness and emotion, doesn't think he's ever loved him more. He takes a few deliberate deep breaths to steady himself, then glances at Oswald over his shoulder. He can't see him very well from this angle and with his glasses cracked, but he hopes that his attempt at eye contact is reassuring. 

"Slowly," he gasps, and Oswald moans, presumably at being given permission. 

At first, he barely moves at all. He rocks his hips gently, getting them both more used to the feeling of moving together. Every shift makes Ed's toes curl. He knows it won't be long before Oswald relocates his prostate, and that it will undoubtedly be fantastic, but in the meantime the stretch is just the right side of unbearable. 

He lets Oswald continue with these tiny, almost-movements until the ache eventually begins to subside. 

"More," he groans, and Oswald eagerly obliges. He pulls his cock halfway out before pushing steadily back in, repeating the motion over and over. 

This is it, Ed realises. He's being fucked by Oswald Cobblepot. It's crazy, he thinks, how he spent so many years refusing to admit that this was what he wanted. Now that he's had a taste, he knows he could never go back. 

Oswald thrusts again, a little harder this time, and  _ there it is _ . Ed can't stifle the drawn-out moan that rises from his throat. "That's it," he gasps. "Right there, Oswald!" 

"Oh god, Ed…" Oswald grips Ed's hips again, hard enough to bruise, and angles himself to hit that same spot as often as possible. He's still holding back some; Ed can tell. And Ed realises with startling clarity that he's ready for Oswald to truly let go. 

He steels himself against the pleasure rippling through him as he bites out, "Come on, Oswald. Is this the best you can do?" 

It immediately has the desired effect. He wishes he could see the fire in Oswald's eyes as he begins to pound into him at a furious pace. Slaps of skin-on-skin echo in Ed's ears as he screams with each grind of Oswald's cock deep in his ass. One of Oswald's hands comes up to grab a fistful of Ed's hair, yanking his head back and forcing his back to arch almost painfully. With that leverage comes another change of angle, and all Ed can do is take it as Oswald mercilessly hits his prostate. 

"You are not in a position to be making taunts,  _ Edward,"  _ Oswald grinds out between breathy moans. He refuses to let up on the harsh pace he's set even for a moment. Ed's universe is a whirlwind. He howls uncontrollably, overcome by the onslaught, unable to let go of the sheets to stroke himself for fear of simply collapsing. 

"You want to come for me, Ed?" Oswald growls, having apparently gained the ability to read his mind. "You'll come on my cock, or not at all."

It's this display of power, possessive in its undertones, that pushes Ed past the point of no return. The way Oswald  _ commands  _ has always been one of his most attractive qualities, and he's timed this dominant assertion perfectly. Ed screams, broken and unabashed, as his orgasm rips through him, his cock pulsing semen onto the sheets below. 

It turns out that a prostate-induced climax lasts longer than those he's used to, and he feels like he's riding out the aftershocks for hours, bursts of warmth shuddering through him as Oswald continues to fuck him throughout. 

"Yes," Oswald hisses. His thrusts are starting to become erratic. "Perfect. So perfect."

Ed feels himself start to go lax, his body held up now mostly by Oswald. He's in a world of bliss, and he doesn't think he could cooperate even if he tried. He's hypersensitive to the ferocious drive of Oswald inside him, splitting him apart in the most delicious way, and his howling subsides into a steady stream of pathetic mewls. 

Oswald's grip tightens in his hair. "Oh… Oh,  _ Ed,  _ I'm going to-!" 

Oswald's rhythm stutters as he comes, his breath coming out in a low groan, no doubt filling the condom as he buries himself to the hilt. Ed wishes he could feel it from the inside; that would be something spectacular. He waits as Oswald's movements slow before finally stopping altogether, and they take a moment to stay connected, bathing in the immediate afterglow and catching their breath. 

It stings a little when Oswald slowly withdraws, though Ed has never felt so empty. He collapses onto his front, belatedly realising that he's landed in his own mess, and Oswald disappears for a moment to dispose of the condom before flopping onto his back beside him. 

"Oh my god," he sighs, and Ed lazily nods in agreement. Then Oswald turns to face him. "Was that OK?" 

Ed has to laugh. "Oswald, I just came so hard that I think I went blind for a few minutes."

Oswald chuckles along with him, clearly relieved by this answer. Then he takes a long breath. "I wish we could stay here forever."

Ed is quiet for a moment. "There's nothing to stop us staying here for a while. When was the last time either of us got out of Gotham?" 

Oswald side-eyes him and raises an eyebrow. "Did you forget that yesterday you started a Penguin-Falcone war? I need to get back and do some damage control."

"I suppose you're right," Ed huffs. He lifts an arm and drapes it across Oswald's torso. "I know you don't need a chief of staff anymore, but how about a lieutenant?" 

Oswald threads their fingers together. He feels so, so warm. "I'd rather have you at my side."

Ed smiles, his eyes slipping closed. "I don't intend to be anywhere else."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Ed had a fantasy, and I was asked to make it a reality. Ask and ye shall receive!

Try as he might, Ed has been unable to get the idea out of his head. If anything, it's evolved from a basic fantasy to a full-on obsession. 

It's been a month since his grand gesture at Oswald's wedding, but it's not been a honeymoon so much as a headache. Although the two of them have spent very little time apart since then, they've mostly been occupied dealing with the fallout of Oswald's ruined alliance with the Falcone faction. The underworld was in chaos when they returned to Gotham, and it has taken a lot of very strategic power play to get it back under a semblance of control. With Ed at his side, Oswald has clung to his position of authority in his criminal enterprises, but the grip he holds is tenuous and they have a lot of dangerous enemies just waiting for the opportune moment to strike back. 

Nevertheless, Ed has remained somewhat… _preoccupied._

After yet another day filled with business meetings, plotting next moves and torturing information out of imbeciles, Ed has decided that he's finally ready to request that his dream is turned into reality. 

There's always the possibility that Oswald will say no, which would be disappointing to say the least, but, given the fervent physical passion he's demonstrated towards Ed on many wonderful occasions over the past month, he doubts it. 

So, after he's prepared in every possible way and double checked that he hasn't forgotten any of the essentials (because that was a mistake that he does not intend to repeat), he seeks Oswald out. He finds him with ease, slumped into his armchair with a glass of expensive wine propped delicately in one hand. He looks a little haggard, and definitely in need of some quality sleep; Ed resolves to delegate a few of his more strenuous tasks for the next few days. 

Still, Oswald manages a strained but genuine smile when Ed comes to stand before him. Even when he's run ragged like this, he radiates an ethereal beauty that makes Ed's breath hitch. He goes to say something, but Ed, not wanting to lose his nerve and already thrumming with anticipation, speaks quickly. 

"I have a proposition." 

Oswald tilts his head, apparently intrigued. "Oh?" 

"I hope you'll say yes. I think you'll enjoy it." Ed extends a hand to help Oswald stand up, which he accepts after setting his wine glass down on the side table. 

"Then you had better tell me what it is."

Oswald is so close, and Ed breathes him in. "It involves the two of us in bed with no clothes on."

"I like the sound of it already," Oswald smirks, reaching behind Ed's neck to pull him into a kiss. Ed responds in kind, wrapping Oswald in his arms and relishing the press of his body against him. 

They become lost in each other, sharing languid kisses and caresses as they slowly make their way to the master bedroom, which they've been sharing since their return. Once there, the touches become more heated, various buttons and fastenings popped open as they work to reveal more of each other's skin. 

They're a mess and halfway undressed by the time Oswald pulls back, breathless and entirely unwilling to release the hold he currently has on Ed's hips. "Are you going to enlighten me regarding this proposition, or not?" 

Assuming that a refusal at this point would be unlikely in the extreme, Ed is feeling bolder than before, and he grins wickedly as he drops his head to speak against Oswald's ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

"I want to tie you up and ride you." He doesn't miss Oswald's sharp inhale, or the twitch of his cock where it's pressed against his thigh, hard and hot under his clothes. "Let me? I'll make you feel so good, I promise." 

Oswald practically devours him in response. Their teeth clack from the force of his kiss, and Ed finds himself swiftly manhandled onto his back on the bed in a surprising show of strength from Oswald, who follows swiftly, plastering himself atop Ed's body before reigniting their kiss. 

If that isn't a green light to proceed, Ed isn't sure what is. But he's not in a hurry, and he wants to enjoy Oswald's weight pressing him into the mattress for a little longer first. They kiss until their lips are tingling and sore, rolling their hips together in a steady rhythm, hands grabbing and stroking anywhere they can reach. 

It's nothing short of magical, being able to _experience_ Oswald like this. At first, although he would never have admitted it aloud, Ed had been worried that the novelty of it all would very soon wear off. That, having finally got what he'd wanted, he would grow tired of Oswald. Or, worse, that they would fall into old habits and hurt each other. 

He's less worried about that now. Oswald's adoration of him continues to take his breath away, and he can't imagine ever becoming weary of this. 

He pushes at Oswald's shoulders, however, before he gets too carried away. "Strip, please," he says, climbing off the bed to retrieve the items he needs. 

Oswald obeys him, getting the rest of his clothes off quickly and efficiently while Ed's back is turned. Ed finds the silk bolts he procured for this purpose - thick and sturdy, one in green and one in purple, as well as the usual condom and lube. A giddy rush of excitement grabs him as the luxurious material slides through his fingers. He didn't think Oswald would have appreciated handcuffs, after all the time they've both spent wearing them under far less pleasant circumstances. 

When he turns back to the bed, Oswald is nude and reclined on his back, one hand behind his head and the other lazily stroking himself. He's staring at Ed with what can only be described as smouldering desire, and it makes Ed's heart flutter in his chest. 

He can hardly get back into bed fast enough, straddling Oswald's hips and licking his lips as he feels the press of Oswald's erection against his still-clothed ass. Dropping the lube and condom to the side, he holds up the bolts of silk for Oswald's approval. 

Oswald touches the fabric, reverent. "You've been planning this," he says, more of a statement than a question, and Ed doesn't try to hide his gleeful grin. 

"I hoped."

Oswald smiles, and deftly loops the green silk around the back of Ed's neck, using it to pull him down into a deep kiss. Ed shudders from the intensity of it, arousal coursing through him, and he moves to get Oswald's hands into position. 

"Wait, wait."

Ed pauses. "What is it?" 

"I'm going to need my hands to… prepare you." Oswald turns his gaze pointedly towards Ed's backside, already flexing his fingers. 

"That won't be necessary." Oswald starts to whine in protest, but Ed shushes him. "I just want you to lie back and enjoy yourself."

Although Oswald looks like he wants to argue this point further, he allows Ed this time to loop the purple silk around his wrists, securing them together. He tests the give when Ed lets go, and Ed is pleased to see that he won't be able to easily break free. Then he uses the green silk to attach Oswald's bound hands to the headboard, before sitting back to survey his work. 

He pushes a hand through his hair as he chokes out a soft moan. He'd known it would be fantastic, but Oswald is an absolute _vision_ like this. Arms outstretched above his head, lips parted, eyes wide with pupils dilated by lust. There's a flush spreading down his neck, starting to bloom across his chest, and he's trembling slightly with every breath he takes. 

"My god, you're beautiful," Ed sighs. That singular thought has, for a moment, taken over the entirety of his brain. He would do anything to keep Oswald here like this, with him, forever. 

Oswald swallows hard, closing his eyes; Ed knows he's still a touch uncomfortable with compliments. "I can't help but notice that you still have too many clothes on."

It's true, Ed needs to level the playing field. And he has a surprise. He turns so that he's facing Oswald's feet, and slowly unbuckles his belt before wriggling his trousers and underwear together down to his thighs. 

He grins manically when he hears Oswald's choked gasp. 

"Ed… You… Did you…?" 

Oswald can't seem to form a complete sentence, which Ed takes as a good sign. He reaches behind himself to touch the base of the plug he has nestled inside himself. When he had prepared for this evening, he had prepared _thoroughly_ , and it already feels like it has paid off. 

"What do you think?" he asks, but he doesn't wait for an answer. "I want to take you, Oswald. Want to fuck myself on you."

"Holy hell…"

Ed toys with the plug just for a moment before hurrying to finish undressing. Oswald is squirming beneath him, and probably already regrets that he doesn't have the use of his hands, but Ed is so hard it's almost painful. Once he's naked, he shuffles backwards so that he's kneeling above Oswald's chest, still facing the foot of the bed, to give him the best possible view. 

"How long have you had that in?" Oswald whispers, his voice breaking. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ed counters. He tilts his pelvis back and takes hold of the plug's base again, slowly pulling it until the widest part just pops out of him, before pushing it back in fully again. It's got nothing on Oswald's cock, but the movement inside him still makes him groan, and Oswald whimpers in sympathy, his hips making tiny thrusts up into nothing. 

"I wanted you to see how much I want you." 

Ed repeats the action a few times, removing the plug about halfway before reinserting it. A few moments just to tease them both, and he's reassured that the movement isn't causing him any pain. It bodes very well for what's to come. 

Oswald sounds like he might cry as he sobs, "Ed, _please_ …"

Ed hums, low and satisfied, as he finally pulls the plug out of himself completely and tosses it aside. "I like hearing you beg."

He's quick to roll the condom onto Oswald and slick him with lube before turning around again, planting his palms on Oswald's chest, his ass hovering just high enough that Oswald can't make contact. 

"Beg me again."

Under any other circumstances, he's quite sure Oswald would have snarled out some very choice words in response. This time though, he meets Ed's gaze with his own full of lust and a vulnerable desperation. 

"Please, Ed, please, I need you Ed, I love you, I'm begging you, _please-_ " 

Ed impales himself on Oswald's cock in a single smooth motion, effectively cutting him off as they moan in unison. He sits there for a moment, relishing in not needing to adjust and enjoying the sensation of Oswald filling him completely. Oswald seems to have stopped breathing, his face contorted into a silent scream. His arms strain wonderfully against his bindings. 

Oh, it's already everything Ed has been dreaming of.

He waits for Oswald to blink his eyes open and gulp a few breaths before he starts to move, picking himself up slowly until just the tip of Oswald remains inside him, before dropping himself forcefully back down. 

"Oswald," he groans, "you feel amazing."

" _Oh_ , Ed…" Oswald arches his head back, exposing the column of his throat, and Ed bares his teeth, overcome suddenly by the desire to claim him, own him, ruin him. Stuffed full of Oswald's cock, he can't bend down to suck bruises onto Oswald's neck like he wants to, so instead he sets a punishing pace with his body. 

He bounces himself as hard and fast as he can, grunting each time his ass meets Oswald's thighs. He feels euphoric, despite the burn in his muscles from the building lactic acid and the sting in his lungs as he struggles to breathe enough oxygen. He's lightheaded and there's nothing in his mind but _Oswald,_ splitting him open over and over. It's incredible. 

Through hazy vision, he watches Oswald's muscles tensing under his skin. He feels him, pliable and yet solid, under his hands where he braces himself. And Oswald's mouth hangs lax, spewing high-pitched moans with every breath he takes. 

Ed can feel himself rushing towards the brink far sooner than he would have preferred, but doesn't have the strength of mind to hold himself back. He takes his own aching erection in his hand and jerks himself roughly, gritting his teeth as warmth coils tight in his gut. 

Then he's gone, because Oswald looks straight into his _soul_. He feels it as his muscles clench around Oswald while he comes, his vision whiting out, semen pulsing uncontrollably over the soft expanse of Oswald's stomach. 

So worth it. 

As he comes down from his high, he struggles to endure the burn in his muscles any longer. Oswald hasn't finished yet, but his movements slow before he's stopping to rest completely. Just a moment, that's all he needs, and then he'll focus entirely on Oswald. 

But Oswald isn't having it. Before Ed has had a chance to recover, Oswald has planted his feet and is using the leverage to drive himself up, the force of it almost throwing Ed off him, immediately picking up the rhythm that Ed has dropped. Ed moans, his eyes rolling as he allows Oswald to use his body to chase his own orgasm. 

"Come on, Oswald," he grinds out. "Fuck me, so good, you're perfect- _ah!"_

Oswald howls when he comes, his entire body arching, tense, a vein popping in his forehead as he pulls tight against his silk bindings. He shudders, his cock twitching against Ed's insides until he's utterly spent, and he flops down with a worn-out groan. 

Only now does Ed start to realise how oversensitive he's feeling, and he winces as he lifts himself up, easing Oswald out of him. He doesn't enjoy the sensation of emptiness he gets, but he loves that he can drape himself over Oswald's body and kiss him again. He doesn't even care that he's getting smeared with Oswald's mess. 

He reaches one hand up to untie the silk knots, and immediately Oswald's arms encircle him, pulling him as close as possible. 

"Thank you, Ed," Oswald murmurs against his mouth, and Ed chuckles lightly. 

"I should be the one thanking you. You're a dream come true, Oswald. Quite literally, in this case."

They bask in companionable silence for what could well be eternity, because Ed hasn't quite regained his sense of time yet. It's comfortable and warm and peaceful. 

"We should shower." It's a statement, but Oswald makes no move to get up, nor to relinquish his hold on Ed, and Ed is quite happy to stay that way, although he hums in agreement. He hasn't even peeled Oswald's condom off yet, and he can only imagine that must be getting unpleasant. 

Still. 

He wraps his own arms underneath Oswald and pillows his head more comfortably against his chest. His heart beats, quick and steady, against Ed's ear, a soothing tempo that no one else gets to hear. He fancies that his own heart beats in synchronicity.

If he could crawl any closer, he would _be_ Oswald Cobblepot. 

And he doesn't think he would mind that at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end (unless anyone wants more, because I have no self-control)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to wrap things up. Enjoy!

It's been a year to the day (to the minute, almost) since Ed laid claim to Oswald in the middle of his own wedding. It's no coincidence that he's dressed in the very same bespoke suit as he wore back then; he thought about having a new one made, even more flamboyant, but he knows Oswald will appreciate the sentiment attached to the old one. 

Everything is in place. He's been meticulous in his planning. His hand caresses the detonator, tucked safely inside his pocket. 

He stands tall, centre stage in the empty theatre. The spotlights are on him, making his green sequined pinstripes sparkle. All the better. He fully intends this to be a spectacle. 

A door slams at the opposite end of the auditorium, and Ed's lips turn upwards into a smile. He doesn't need to be able to see that far to know that it's Oswald; the tap of his cane on the floor gives him away. 

"Ed!" Oswald's voice echos. "Is everything alright?" 

Always so concerned, his focus forever narrowed onto Ed's wellbeing. It warms Ed's heart. 

"Never better," Ed replies. "I have a surprise for you."

Oswald approaches the stage, and Ed notices the figure of Zsasz hanging further back. Apparently satisfied that Ed is unharmed, Oswald allows his relief to shift into exasperation. "These unending theatrics. When I saw your riddle, I thought you were trying to rope me into something criminal. Then when I saw the incapacitated staff out in the lobby, I thought you'd been kidnapped."

"Nothing of the sort. That was a minor necessity to ensure that we wouldn't be disturbed. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean?" 

Oswald is right in front of the stage now, his sea-green eyes shining under the lights. Ed smiles down at him, and lowers his voice. "Tell Zsasz to give us a moment?" 

Without moving his gaze away from Ed, Oswald gestures back to Zsasz, who slips back out towards the lobby. Only when the door closes behind him and they are alone in this huge space does Ed move forwards to the front of the stage, crouching down and reaching out with both hands. "Come up here with me."

Oswald raises a disbelieving eyebrow, eyeing the stage suspiciously but taking Ed's hands nevertheless. It's a struggle, with the stage being the height of Oswald's shoulders, and Oswald refusing to let go of his cane, and the expected hindrance of Oswald's bad leg, but they manage to make a success of it. Ed guides him until they're standing together under the spotlights, barely a foot apart, and threads their fingers together. 

Oswald blinks up at him, and Ed is struck, as he so often is, by his beauty. This is a man who has killed and maimed, for business and for pleasure. A man who has caused untold grief for so many, stepping on whoever got in his way to reach the top of the criminal food chain. He's shamelessly unconventional, his purple-tinted hair and fur-collared coats setting him apart from the masses.

But Ed knows his softness and his vulnerability too, lurking under that powerful exterior. Oswald wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions on his face. He's expressive and articulate and inspiring. Once upon a time, back in his old apartment with Oswald in his bed, unconscious and recovering from a bullet, Ed had been in awe of him. 

That awe has only evolved, and now, Ed is in love with him. 

Funny how things turn out in the end. 

"Ed? Is something wrong?" 

Ed realises that he's been quietly staring at Oswald for a moment too long, and the corners of Oswald's eyes are starting to crease with worry. So easy to read. 

"No," he replies. "Everything's fine. Perfect, even." 

"Alright," Oswald says, slowly. "So… what's this surprise?" 

This is it. Ed takes a deep breath, and checks his watch quickly. He has a few minutes left, which should be just enough time to say everything he needs to. 

"Oswald," he begins. "Our relationship has not always been easy. I admired you, you tolerated me. You liked me, I idolised you. Then we were ruined by jealousy and betrayal, and we obsessed over wanting to hate each other. Somehow, we've managed to come back from that, and I think that says a lot about the depth of our connection."

Oswald opens his mouth to speak, but Ed squeezes his hand to quiet him. 

"We're stronger now than we've ever been. We were always stronger when we were together. There's nothing we can't achieve and… honestly, there's nothing I  _ want  _ to achieve without you by my side. 

"It took an unacceptably long time for me to realise I was in love with you. I'm ashamed to say that I denied it with every fibre of my being. I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to  _ be _ normal. There's nothing normal about you. You're a force of nature. But the more I tried to deny how I felt, the more I seemed pulled into your orbit. I'm whole with you. And it was only when I finally accepted it that I began to realise that normality is not the same as happiness."

Oswald is positively beaming at him. 

"Now, don't misunderstand me," Ed continues. "You are far from flawless. You're childish and stubborn, and your temper is dreadful. But your flaws make you who you are. They make you the man I love. And the happiness I feel when we're together is unparalleled."

There are tears in Oswald's eyes. Ever the sentimentalist. Ed is too giddy, too excited and nervous, to hold it against him. 

"Today is the anniversary of when I crashed your wedding. Do you remember?" 

"As if I could forget," Oswald sighs. His gaze drops, lingering on Ed's torso. "You wore this very suit - which looks exquisite on you, by the way. It was the most wonderful day of my life." 

Oswald's smile could topple empires. Ed inhales slowly. 

"Well, I think we can do better."

Ed lets go of one of Oswald's hands, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small, velvet box. Oswald's eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, his breath stuttering, as Ed drops to one knee as gracefully as he can. He opens the box so Oswald can see the ring inside. It's ornate, sparkling with diamonds and beautiful purple stones. Everything Oswald deserves. 

"Ed…" Oswald's voice is little more than a broken whisper. 

Then, right on time, Zsasz bursts back into the auditorium. "Boss!" he calls. "Cops are here."

There's no time to do anything else before a team from the GCPD has swarmed into the theatre. They block the exits and surround the stage, guns trained on the criminal pair. As expected, they are led by Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock. 

"Nygma!" Jim calls, his tone suggesting an attempt at negotiation. "This doesn't have to end badly for you."

"You've arrived just in time, detective," Ed replies, before turning his full attention back to Oswald. "Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, will you do me the honour of marrying me?" 

There are a few confused exclamations from their audience, most notably from Harvey. But Ed isn't looking at them. He's looking at Oswald, hoping that he hasn't made some dreadful miscalculation regarding the stage of their relationship, waiting for his response with baited breath. 

It takes Oswald several agonising seconds to recover from his shock, but then he's pulling Ed to his feet and yanking him into a deep kiss that Ed can only assume means 'yes'. 

Nothing is held back; it's as if they're the only two people in the world. Relief and joy flood Ed's system as he loses himself to Oswald, pressing their bodies together with a hand at Oswald's lower back, the other still clutching the ring box as he wraps the arms around Oswald's shoulders. Oswald sobs into his mouth, gripping Ed's hips tight, rocking his whole body as if he wants to fall right inside Ed's skin. 

Ed would welcome him.

"Jesus, get a room!" someone yells. Ed breaks the kiss just to breathe Oswald's air, unable to stop a grin spreading across his face as he keeps Oswald close. 

"Time to go," he whispers against the shell of Oswald's ear, revelling in the shudder it evokes. With his free hand, he reaches for the detonator in his pocket and holds it aloft. The cops, who had mostly relaxed during their amorous display, instantly bring their guns back to the ready, but Ed isn't the least bit bothered. 

"Thanks for coming. Cheerio, detectives!" 

Ed presses the button. There are a series of small bangs and bright flashes around the auditorium, and within seconds there's a thick smoke obscuring all visibility. 

After a lot of coughing and yelling, the smoke clears enough to show that the stage is now empty. 

***

Only when they're safely ensconced in the getaway limo that Ed had arranged does Oswald allow him to slip the ring onto his finger. Then he simply admires it for a long time, while Ed is content to watch. It's perfect on him, just as he expected. 

"I can't believe you did all this," Oswald finally murmurs. 

Ed smirks. "You didn't think I was capable of an elaborate proposal? Please."

"Not that," Oswald says, shaking his head fondly. He's still staring at the ring. "I meant, why the drama? Did you really need to invite the GCPD?" 

"I'll have you know that it took a great deal of planning to get them there at the correct time. They're not known for their punctuality, after all." Ed shuffles across the seat to take Oswald's hand, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles. "And I wanted those buffoons - Jim Gordon especially - to know that we are about to become an unbeatable team."

"I might have said no," Oswald muses, though his tone is teasing. "Could have been embarrassing for you."

Ed leans in to kiss him, and Oswald's hands come up to cradle his jaw as he responds with enthusiasm. 

"I would have been…  _ mmph…  _ inconsolable," Ed says between breaths. He feels the cool metal of Oswald's ring pressing against his face, and it fills him with joy. 

"Good thing I love you, then." Oswald pulls him closer, closer, closer. As it so often does, Ed's universe narrows and centres entirely on this incredible man, his best friend, the truest love he has ever known. 

"The best," he agrees. Oswald gazes at him with unadulterated adoration, and Ed hopes he's reflecting it straight back, because it is breathtaking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for proposals, sorrynotsorry. And this is definitely the last chapter this time!


End file.
